Welcome
by Kyra Rivers
Summary: It was at times like this that Oriya did not love Kazutaka at all.


**Title:** Welcome

**Summary:** It was at times like this that Oriya did not love Kazutaka at all

**Notes:** Fic based on Pablo Neruda quote: _"Why will the whole of love come on me suddenly/when I am sad and feel you are far away?"_

**Disclaimer:** Whee.

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**Welcome**

It was at times like this that Oriya did not love Kazutaka at all.

The boy was standing there, eyes fiery green, demanding the key card in his hands. It would be a dramatic scene and Oriya might have felt something from this boy, but he was too caught up in repressing the strange urge to laugh at the sight in front of him. Not because the boy was so young, too-large clothes emphasizing thinness and desperation stripping years from his face, but because Oriya just couldn't get over that the child was _dead_.

Dead. Dead dead _dead_. He was talking to a dead person, and it was all Kazutaka's goddamned fault.

And everyone else was very serious about the whole matter, eyes narrowed, informing Oriya that they need to go save some other dead person. And all Oriya wanted to do, initially, was laugh his ass off, go inside and shut the dead people out.

It was all Kazutaka's fault, really.

There had not been "must be willing to converse with dead people" in the contract of their friendship. Back in high school, when Kazutaka had transferred in and Oriya had been attracted to his strange presence, there had been nothing of the sort. Kazutaka was shy and closed-tight, clearly hiding something away within himself. And somehow, over time, Kazutaka revealed those things to him, each one a slowly inserted barb to pin Oriya down flat against the examination board. Oriya couldn't help but be fascinated despite himself.

Really, the only thing he gave up was his freedom. He was loyal to Kazutaka, throughout their lives growing up, even when Kazutaka would rush off to various places around the world and Oriya would be in Japan, insufferably waiting. Never knowing what Kazutaka was doing, only that there were glimpses of something psychotic in his eyes. The crazed, powerful look that Kazutaka sometimes had, when he was deep inside some kind of project.

The look Kazutaka had when he gave Oriya the key card and bid him farewell forever.

He fought the boy for the card, not truly caring if the boy won. He didn't even really know what was happening, just that Kazutaka had taken the pretty-eyed man and that bright-eyes wanted him back. Somewhere in there was some kind of romance, fucked up though it may be, and Oriya wanted to smile. Love triangles were such a bother, especially when the participants involved wouldn't admit to it.

Maybe it was a love square.

Oriya remembered the pang in his chest when Kazutaka left. He remembered the edgy terror that sometimes laced through him when Kazutaka came to him wounded, or the dull resignation when Kazutaka came covered in someone else's blood. Oriya did not approve of Kazutaka, not in the broadest sense of the word, but he couldn't help the pleased sensation that occurred when Kazutaka came back. Even when he knew that Kazutaka had done bad things, awful things, things that would make ordinary people tremble in terror, Oriya welcomed Kazutaka.

Maybe that was love.

Maybe it was love right now – even though Kazutaka was gone from him --, stronger in his absence, which kept Oriya from just handing over the key card and saying, "Fuck him." He had every reason to, really.

For instance, Oriya was currently fighting a _dead boy_ so that the child could get back his undead lover. Partner. Whatever.

Before Kazutaka, Oriya had not had experience with dead people, nor did he particularly want to.

But Kazutaka had found him, pinned him and dissected him at his own leisure. Kazutaka knew him. He knew that Oriya would not betray him, not because he didn't want to but because he _couldn't_. He had given up that right when he listened to Kazutaka tell his tale, weaving the binds with the deftness of a spider, entrapping Oriya within his web. Now Oriya couldn't do anything but wait for Kazutaka to come back.

Maybe this time he would finally suck him dry and Oriya would be free.

--

The boy came back a week later during midday, an hour before dinnertime. Oriya saw him out of the window and bid his whores to get ready for the night. Slowly, he made his way to the garden, hoping that perhaps the wait had gotten too long and the boy had left.

He was wrong, as he knew he would be. Why would time mean anything to the dead?

"Boy," Oriya greeted, saying nothing more.

Bright-eyes looked paler but not quite so desperate, the sort of illness that falls once everything was finished. Kazutaka had been defeated, then. Oriya knew that Kazutaka did not leave witnesses, especially not pretty, lithe boys like Bright-eyes.

"I came to tell you," the boy said, coolly, "that Muraki is still alive."

Oriya remained still, not allowing himself to react.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Oriya had known that Kazutaka was alive. He had denied it instantly, wishing despite his logic that Kazutaka had died and that was why he hadn't returned, but he knew that wasn't true. Even if Kazutaka had died, it wouldn't have changed the fact that he had said goodbye.

Bright-eyes was waiting.

"I figured," Oriya replied honestly, voice steady as always. He tilted his head at the boy, smiling wryly. "Did you get Purple-eyes back, boy?"

The boy stiffened, then relaxed and murmured, "Yeah." His eyes looked up and locked on Oriya, fierce and powerful, like they had been the first night Oriya met him. Like Kazutaka's powerful, terrifying eyes, but without the strange manic element within them.

Before Oriya could question, Bright-eyes said, "You're stupid to love him, Oriya-san. He's a monster."

It was everything that Oriya already knew, coming from the mouth of a too-wise dead boy. For a moment, Oriya was at a loss on how to respond. He dropped his gaze from the child, considering, and then realized that some things weren't truly meant to be explained.

So he said, "There are things in this world that can't be helped, boy. This is one of them."

When Oriya looked up again, the boy was gone. Oriya smiled, wistfully, and knew that it was good for the boy to leave. His was not a place for the dead to enter.

However, it seemed that all kinds of the living were welcome.


End file.
